


In the Space Between

by Nito



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-06 21:50:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10345266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nito/pseuds/Nito
Summary: Lyna Mahariel and Morrigan have been apart for many years, but not for much longer - Lyna has discovered a cure for the Calling and is headed to Skyhold for assistance. Set after Inquisition but before the Trespasser DLC.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sumi/gifts).



> _
> 
> And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us. - Pablo Neruda
> 
> _

 

It was dusk as Lyna reached the outskirts of Jader, the city cool and quiet as the Harvestmere chill began to set in.

‘Only three more days,’ Lyna thought to herself, a mantra that kept her warm as she slowed her horse to a trot as she looked for an inn. She had the luxury of inns, now.

She had imagined their reunion countless times over the years, so much so that she could picture every detail. The curve of her love’s rare smiles and the slight tilt of her head, illuminated in a hazy sunset. A warm greeting. A touch. 

And yet. How cruel the years had been to her, with the Calling growing more fervent by the month. Lyna’s fingers had already grown clammy and cold - and she tried not to think about how much they resembled Tamlen’s hands from so long ago. 

But the cure was so close, Lyna felt as if she could almost grasp it, blighted fingers or no. It was an elaborate cure, the culmination of years of research, of countless months of wandering through abandoned Warden ruins and Thedosian wilderness. Not that Lyna minded, she loved the outdoors, and had grown accustomed to solitude, but as the Song reached a crescendo there was little solace to be had in loneliness.

The inn, however, bustled with activity, the hearth was warm and citizens and travelers alike prepared themselves for the Satinalia feast. Keeping her hood up and her cloak closed, Lyna secured a bed, and a bowl of stew that may or may not have been nug. 

\--

_“I cannot place this meat Alistair - what did you say this stew was again?” Leliana said, thoughtfully stirring the contents of her bowl._

_“It’s ah- well, it’s quail! Lyna caught one this morning, before dawn!” stammered Alistair._

_With a smirk, Lyna leaned over to Morrigan - “Would Leliana really be so upset to learn she’s eating one of Schmooples’ brothers?”_

_“I believe so,” Morrigan said driely. “Do you not remember when we came upon that injured halla? I thought you were going to have to drag her away.”_

_“Perhaps you are right, Morrigan.”_

_“I often am.”_

\--

The days often went by quicker than the nights, the Orlesian countryside as monotonous as it was bright, with the brilliant golden squash and green fennel, with the first clear sky that Lyna had seen in weeks.

Skyhold was visible from a considerable distance, in that it was still a day’s journey up the mountains in order to reach Skyhold’s summit. 

Lyna knew little of what had become of Morrigan since the end of the Blight. They both had their reasons for disappearing, but Lyna wished that it was not so permanent. She had her own responsibilities of course, and Morrigan had insisted on raising her child alone - much to Lyna’s concern. An old adage from Keeper Marethari wormed its way into her thoughts - ‘It takes a clan to raise a child, Lyna. You are not exempt, ma da’len’. 

Morrigan had brushed her worries off, of course. She always had. Lyna wondered where Morrigan had found such confidence, to be unapologetically who she was, and to always seem so in control of where her life was headed.

\--

_“Do you believe in fate, Morrigan?”_

_“Fate? ‘Tis something rather foolish, is it not? Surely it helps the common man sleep at night, to know that their actions are of no consequence... Whether there is a grand plan for all of us I do not know, nor do I care.” The fire crackled in the silence of the night._

_“I… I think that’s the most I’ve heard you say at one time.” Lyna poke the fire with a stick, causing embers to wisp away into cool air. “But that’s not why I asked, I promise!”_

_“Have you been speaking to our dear sister Leliana again? ‘Tis impressive, is it not, how she cannot seem to go three sentences without discussing the Maker.”_

_Lyna had to suppress the urge to snort. “She means well. I think. But it’s this whole saving the world thing! Six months ago I was a Dalish archer whose only goal in life was to shoot one arrow through another and to start a family someday! And now I have the Blight.”_

_The fire popped and crackled. “You are still a Dalish archer, you know. Whether ‘twas the strings of fate that led you here or not, you are… still you.” The fire waned, the coals burning white-orange, illuminating the crease in the Warden’s brow._

_“Thanks.”_

\--

Skyhold was imposing, its walls bled with old magic; and although Lyna wasn’t a mage, there was no denying that this stronghold was once a place of great power. It was also presently a place of great power as well, judging by the number of soldiers sparring in the front courtyard.

Months ago she had received a letter from Leliana inquiring about the magister Corypheus - and also about her own machinations, as Leliana’s curiosity about her whereabouts showed. Lyna had sent her regrets, and a more private letter for Morrigan that she hoped Leliana hadn’t read, and continued on her path. But now, she was closer to success than she had ever been. Even if Leliana was reading her letters, it would be hard to spoil her mood - the fact that preventing the Calling involved seeing Morrigan once more was the most good fortune Lyna had seen in a while.

It was Leliana she saw first - or rather, Leliana saw her, what with her agents and ravens and rather ominous spymaster tower.

“Our dear ambassador Josephine insisted she be the one to greet you, but unfortunately something came up,” Leliana said with a wry smile. “And I would never let an old friend wander this castle alone.”

“Are… you calling me old, Leli?”

“I would never!”

“If you say so. Anyways - I assume you’ve been reading my letters to Morrigan?”

“I suppose it would be silly to lie you about that, hm?” Leliana gestured to the large front doors of Skyhold. “I believe the reason for your trip is currently lurking in the garden. Do you need directions? Or perhaps an escort?” There was that mischievous smile Lyna had come to know - and also dread.

“No, no, I’m sure I can find the gardens just fine. And I’m going to try to ignore your eavesdropping, as difficult as that might be.”

“It is what a spymaster does, my friend.”

As massive as Skyhold was, Lyna found that it was a relatively easy stronghold to navigate (at least from the outside.) Before heading back to her duties, Leliana mentioned that there were a few ways into the garden that weren’t as noticeable as using the main hall entrance. It wasn’t that Lyna was avoiding the Inquisitor, as gracious as they might be, but she had more pressing matters to attend to. And these matters didn’t involve getting accosted by nobles - she’d had enough of that for a lifetime.

From the granite staircase near what Lyna assumed was the armory, was a small stretch of the battlements - which then led into another series of doors and hallways. Following the familiar scent of elfroot and embrium, finding the correct door to the garden was hardly a struggle.

And there was Morrigan. Everything that Lyna had worked towards over the past ten years had led her back to Morrigan. 

“Have you come to save the world again, my Warden?”

They shared a moment of silence until Lyna remembered that it’s considered polite to respond to a question. In that time Morrigan had closed the space between them, so that they were standing face to face.

“Ah, um, not this time, unfortunately. I mean, unfortunate for everyone else because I’m just so good at it and - but wait, wasn’t Corypheus defeated? Is there something new I should be concerned about or -”

“Not at all, Lyna. Leliana only recently informed me of your travels here, and there were whisperings… None of it good, I’m afraid.” Morrigan studied Lyna’s face; as if it was a puzzle she had not yet found the answer to.

“You know how I feel about rumours, Morrigan.”

“Indeed,” Morrigan answered with a small smile. “You hate them. Especially the one about you and the Duchess of, what was it now, Serault? Or was it Val Chevin?”

“I think you’ve been hanging around with Leliana too much,” Lyna grumbled. 

“I quite agree. Speaking of, she wouldn’t tell me your business here - will you?” 

“Yes - but not here. It’s far too open for such secrets.” The Warden winked obnoxiously.

Morrigan didn’t resist the urge to roll her eyes. “Very well. To my quarters, then.” 

Morrigan’s room was just off the right side of the garden, far enough from prying eyes and ears. The room was barely furnished, obviously not meant for some of Skyhold’s more noble guests. At the end of the room there was a large bed with a small desk next to it. The desk was neatly kept, with a pile of scrolls on one end, and an assortment of rocks at the other. But without the scattered personal effects and the lingering scent of chamomile and cedar, it was hard to tell that anyone even occupied the room.

Yet it still felt familiar. The mark of someone who was used to traveling, never staying long and never bringing much. 

“I believe now is the time where you tell me all your secrets, my love. But I suppose we could stand in silence some more, if that is what you wish.” Morrigan smiled. And how much Lyna had dearly missed that smile, as rare and precious as it were. 

“But a lady must have her secrets, ma’arlath!”  
“Oh, you consider yourself a lady now, is that correct? Tis a shame then, after so many years apart, we are met with such dramatics.” 

“You know you love me,” Lyna said, undoing the belt from her bow’s holster and leaning it against the desk. “I have good news, at least. That’s why I’m here. Kind of. Mostly. It’s why I’m here.” Lyna sat on the edge of the bed, fidgeting with the clasps on her gloves.

“I’ve found a cure for the Calling.”

The words hung in the air, almost tangible, as if Lyna had spoken them into existence, as if saying it out loud made it more real.

“Truly? And such a cure - it works?” Morrigan sat herself beside Lyna, intertwining their hands together.

“Well… that’s the bad news I suppose. I’m confident that it will work, and I’ve done all the research I could. Including trudging through about 30 different Warden crypts, so it had better been worth it.” Lyna paused. She was aware that she didn’t always phrase things correctly, especially when it came to magic. “There may or may not be some blood magic involved. And a slight risk that it could kill me outright. So here I am!”

“And you thought that Thedas’ bastion of the faithful was the most appropriate place to perform a blood ritual.”

“Er, yes? I mean, you’re here, and the Inquisitor did ally themselves with the mages, as well as having resources that even I probably couldn’t obtain. But if you want I can go back to some distant Nevarran forest and cure the taint there.”

“That would quite honestly be preferable once some of the Inquisition’s more prickly members find out.”

“Right.”

\--

_A dozen dried and ground deep mushrooms, a handful of felicidus aria, a dram of dragon’s blood, enough yarrow to knock out a druffalo, and a separate vial of her own blood. Manuscripts from an abandoned Warden fortification in northern Nevarra, from the time of the First Blight. Correspondence from an archivist from the University of Orlais regarding the location of battlefields from the first three Blights. An unanswered letter from Grand Enchanter Fiona._

_Lyna was close. Closer than she, or anyone else had ever been._

_After years of investigating and sifting through false leads, dead ends, and outright scams, the collection of materials in front of her was the way to cure the taint and prevent the Calling._

_It was just a shame that it involved blood magic. Specifically, the resulting draught made it possible to cleanse the taint from the infected blood. Then it was enhanced through some complicated witchery, from what Lyna gathered from the yellowed texts before her. That part she didn’t really understand, if she was being honest with herself._

_Lyna gingerly arranged the items in her knapsack, repeatedly wrapping the glass vials in cloth so they didn’t break, and doused her small camp fire with sand._

_She couldn’t wait to get out of the desert._

\--

“So what must be done to create this cure? How do you know it will work?” Morrigan thumbed through a few of the scrolls in front of her. Most were written in modern Common and Orlesian, with an honorable mention to several texts in ancient Nevarran. “Some of these texts are from centuries ago; tis unlikely they are even credible.”

“Believe me, I’ve done my research, my love. My dwarven contacts informed me about the theory that red lyrium has the blight, and so I’ve tested a small amount on a few red lyrium samples I came across. And actually - don’t look at me like that ma vhenan, I’ve been very careful!” Lyna untangled their fingers and hesitantly wrapped her arms around Morrigan’s waist. “I promise. What’s the worst that could happen, I get the blight?”

“As strong an argument as that is, it would be wise to be more careful. It would be a shame if you were to die doing something so foolish.”

“When have I ever been careful, Morrigan? I think never.” Lyna smiled. “Shall we get to work?”

\--

Three days passed at Skyhold before the cure had been adequately brewed. It had to be cooked under a waning moon, and carefully watched. At its end, it created a thick, muddy green colored stew, and a stench that reminded Lyna of the time that she and Merrill wandered into a grove of rashvine nettle after a thunderstorm. They smelled like a pack of druffalo for a week, and the rest of the clan could barely stand to be around them.

Lyna had been trying to keep a low profile at Skyhold, but it was difficult when the incredibly sensitive draught she was brewing both attracted and repulsed its curious inhabitants. 

The Inquisitor had also stopped by briefly, if only to ensure that Lyna wasn’t going to accidentally burn Skyhold to the ground, and to offer her a warm welcome. It was also pleasant that the rest of the Inquisition was giving them space, except for a rather persnickety city elf who blew raspberries in Morrigan’s direction until she got bored.

“It is ready,” Morrigan said, wiping sweat from her brow. “Ready if you are, Lyna.” There was a note of concern in Morrigan’s voice, but Lyna pretended not to notice.

“Shall I go grab Cullen? He offered to strike us both down should we be possessed by demons.”

“He did not.”

“No, he didn’t, but he said if we needed his help he would be here, and so I just assumed.”

“I don’t believe his services will be necessary, my love.” Morrigan rolled her eyes. There was a chance of attracting demons with every usage of blood magicks, but it was nothing that she couldn’t handle.

Lyna smoothed out the well worn sheets on Morrigan’s bed nervously, watching as Morrigan poured the completed potion into a mug. The plan was, she would drink the potion, they would wait a half hour for it to take effect, and then Morrigan would begin the ritual. Although Lyna found that she disliked the word ritual, for it sounded far too ominous for her tastes. The magic portion consisted of several old incantations courtesy of Warden ruin number twenty-seven, and had something to do with purification. Morrigan had verified that the spells mentioned were in fact legitimate, and when strengthened by the potion, should purge the taint from her body. 

At least that was the goal, of course. But she was trying to focus on everything that could go right, instead of wrong.

“I’m ready.” It somehow tasted worse than it smelled.

\--

It took two days for Lyna to wake up. During that time, several of the Inquisition’s healers and even the Inquisitor herself offered to check in on the Warden-Commander’s condition. Morrigan wasn’t too worried if only because Lyna’s vitals were steady. The ritual didn’t immediately kill her, so it was unlikely that it should take her life days later. But they had no way of knowing if the taint had been eliminated until Lyna woke up. It was only something that Grey Wardens could sense, and it drove Morrigan mad.

Not that she would admit it.

A day before Satinalia, Lyna finally stirred. “Hey Morrigan,” she groaned. “Did we fight a dragon?”

“No. No we did not. How are you feeling? Tis quite a feat, curing the taint.” Morrigan sat down on the bed next to Lyna’s side. Now that she was awake, it was easier to quell her worries.

“Well… I think I feel less blight-y? The Calling had become quite an annoyance over these past few months, and now it’s oddly quiet. Nice, though.”

“And I noticed that the circulation to your hands has improved - something you neglected to mention, my love,” Morrigan scolded.

“We were busy, Morrigan - curing the blight and all. But I know, and I’m sorry. I should have told you.” Lyna intertwined her fingers with Morrigan’s once more. Her hands were noticeably warmer now, a definite improvement compared to the last week. 

“Now that you’ve cured the taint, what shall you do now? Ascend the Sunburst Throne? Take back the Dales?”

“I can think of a few people who may take issue with such activities. Besides, I was thinking about living out my remaining years with some rest, relaxation, and that Orlesian wine that Zevran hates.”

“You’d go mad in a week, my love,” Morrigan smirked.

“Yes but I would have you. What are you going to do, Morrigan? Stay with the Inquisition?”

“Perhaps for a time longer, but I do not wish to overstay my welcome. But Kieran has enjoyed our stay here.”

“Kieran? Your son? Wait, you mean your son has been here this entire time and I didn’t know? And you didn’t even mention him!” Lyna attempted to sit up, but quickly decided against it. 

“Well, you said yourself we were rather busy,” Morrigan teased. “He’s been rather enamoured with the Undercroft, where the Arcanist Dagna works.”

“Do you mean the Dagna we helped get to the Circle a decade ago?”

“The very same.”

“Well then after I rest up, I think I’ll have to do some mingling. But the good kind. Because it’s people I like.” Lyna snuggled into Morrigan’s bed, tugging on her hand. “Join me?”

“As you wish, Lyna.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Thanks for reading! This is my gift for Sumi for the Wintersend Exchange 2017 - I hope you enjoyed it! It’s my first time writing fic for this fandom, and my first time writing fic in like 5 years, but I’m pretty pleased with how it turned out.
> 
> Also because I research far too much for my fics, this is what I used as a reference for Lyna’s bow holster (don’t even get me started on all the medieval apothecary and alchemy research I did lol).  
> I wanted to 1000% get this turned in before the deadline because I have no time management skills, but I’ve received other excellent from Sumi and I’m mulling some more ideas around in my brain. We will have to just see! :)


End file.
